Rush Hour
by The JohhnyMcKilt Productions
Summary: AU.Oneshot.The sweaty crowd, the press of bodies in the train was something Wolfram did NOT like. But the sensual, secure feel of someone just out of his memory's reach was worth enduring the rush hour forever.YuuRam


A/N: Since the internet is screwing my ass...might as well type this. Erm, my first official KKM. _Kinda_ AU so...enjoy!xD

**Rush Hour**

_**Oneshot**_

Wolfram emitted a grunt as this obese woman with really large breasts attempted to squeeze herself into an already full train car.

He was practically squashed against the wall by the automatic door, next to the driver's cabin, him having ridden the first car. Despite that, he was still thankful he was near the doors. He'd rather be right at the bottleneck than down in the middle where the seats were. Getting off the station you needed to would be virtual murder from there.

"Proceed to the next train please," the driver's voice rose from the uncomfortable crowd's general noise. "Ma'ams, sirs, please don't block the doors."

There was a succession of shrill screeches afterwhich the automatic doors slid closed.

Wolfram sighed and found that he could not move his limbs without severely jabbing an elbow into the gut of the person immediately pressed next to him. Even his sigh wasn't a proper one. A tangle of arms was keeping his head in place as their owners tried to hold on to the pole behind him to save themselves from losing their balance whenever the train would lurch forward.

His neck was aching, having boarded on the second to the last station and was getting off on the third to the first station. The poor blonde had to hold his head up for nine stations straight and it was not a pleasant experience. He even stopped minding his school bag, surreptitiously squished...or rather, lost...somewhere between his legs down there.

Ugh.

The train's segregation scheme was for naught. There was an exclusive cart for women, children, elderly and disabled people at the end of the train. Most of the time, that particular cart was less occupied than the rest. But Wolfram was a male and shall ever be. At times though, he dearly wished he wasn't. This was one of those times, as one of the arms blocking him was wafting bad BAD vibes originating somewhere to his right...

Wofram mentally smacked himself. He wanted to gag at the smell of cigarettes and three days worth of bodily grime but forced himself to stay put. Extracting his hanky from his pocket and stuffing his face in it was out of the damned question. He was just going to have to deal with his predicament by breathing...uh, shallowly.

Beads of sweat ran down the back of his neck as he made a mighty effort not to subject to physics' laws and crush the people near him while the train pulled into another crowded station.

Wolfram was somewhat jostled about as people squeezed themselves to get off and even more squeezed themselves to get in. As the automatic doors closed once more, he found himself in a tighter fix than before.

There even was this old dude in front of him whose half-open polo got caught between the doors. The uncomfortable teen bit his tongue to stop himself from giggling uncontrollably. Of course, that involved breathing and to his dismay, he found that this old man was strongly sporting an old man smell as well as one of a long day's hard work under the sun.

Wolfram ruthlessly suppressed the groan bubbling up his throat. No. He hated...loathed...travelling home during the rush hour.

Deep sapphire-emerald eyes slid shut as an angry breath of air was released through his nose.

There was one point in Wolfram's commuting career that he loved travelling during the rush hour. One reason why he now hated it so much was because he knew it was a one-to-infinity chance of getting those circumstances back again.

The blonde opened his eyes, which had softened considerably and glazed over in the act of reminiscing as was the custom of the regular train passengers on long rides.

Yes...there _was_ one point in his life where Wolfram would have wanted to stay in that rush hour forever.

- FLASHBACK -

Today he was riding the train all the way to the last station because his mother had given him an errand to run.

Wolfram frowned.

The train was already quite full when he boarded it. He steeled himself with the thought that the worst was probably yet to come. Needless to say, his assumptions were inevitably correct.

The train had pulled into the station next to the one he got on. People steadily poured in and for a good five minutes, their flow seemed far from stopping.

From his position from the door, Wolfram slowly migrated to the middle where the passengers were either seated, hanging onto straps, grabbing onto the pole or balancing themselves because they were too far to hold anything.

Wolfram happened to be too far to hold anything. It was fine with him as he was banking on the fact his body would be able to defy physics once more or that the amount of people sardining themselves in the damned cart would soon render him immoblie thus stable.

The blonde stumbled a bit and fell backward. His body stiffened when his back landed on something warm and a sure but gentle hand caught his shoulder. A soft gasp went unnoticed as the hand stayed there. He felt the spot tingle.

In the density of the crowd, Wolfram turned his head to look back at the face of his savoir...

...and what he saw made his heart stop.

Eyes of the darkest night gazed into his own summer lake ones. A soft smile was etched on seemingly ivory-carved, sun-kissed features. This boy looked no older than him. Their uniforms even looked alike and for all he knew, they studied in the same school! His jet black hair was charmingly messy. The hand on Wolfram's shoulder was somewhat calloused, suggesting this teen being the sporty type.

He smelt of fresh laundry, much to Wolfram's delight, with a splash of white musk made heady throughout the heat of the day. The blonde inhaled deeply, taking in as much of the highly addictive scent as possible.

The black-haired boy's soft smile grew and the hand on Wolfram's shoulder gave a squeeze.

An overwhelming feeling washed over him. This boy...this complete stranger he fell on and he was falling for, who had caught him, who had held him and was still holding him felt all too familiar and comfortable.

It hardly mattered to Wolfram whether they were both boys and they were in a train where a lot of people could see them. No one was sparing them so much as a glance anyway, being much too occupied with their own lives and their own comfort.

Besides, Wolfram felt like they've already met somewhere...perhaps in a dream or in another life.

The blonde gave a contented sigh and dared himself to stay where he was, leaning into this man's touch. He snuggled up to the security of his chest and closed his eyes, drowning himself in that fresh laundry and that colonge, feeling this boy's pounding heart against his own, marveling in the phenomena that all this felt so right.

The hand on his shoulder slid down, leaving the spot unexpectedly cold, a dipped beneath Wolfram's arm to hold his stomach in a protective half-hug, the boy's other hand clinging to a strap overhead. A blush slightly colored the blonde's face but he did not open his eyes as he breathed again.

Only when the black-haired teen's head bent down and he could feel the hot air tickling his neck did Wolfram slowly turn his head, eyes still closed, in the hopes of meeting his cheek just to know what it felt like...

They gently touched noses and nuzzled each other like Eskimos. It was such a tender gesture and Wolfram found himself wanting to cry. He didn't know why but he wanted to.

The overwhelming feeling was a thick surge of love rising from is chest to his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe. He felt loved...loved by this unknown man who held him so close. His heart's desire to burst became unbearable and a whimper escaped his lips.

Ocean-deep orbs opened to find an endlessly far night sky gazing at him. An ever-present smile was still gracing the other boy's face. Wolfram's blush deepened as a sun-kissed palm cupped his cheek to wipe a stray tear away.

For a long long while, they stayed like that in each others arms, gently buoyed once in a while by the frenzy of crowded passangers, obsessed with the lackluster of their mundane lives.

For a long long while, they stayed in each others amrs, so drunk in each other that Wolfram hardly noticed the boy shift, the warmth leave, the train stop until he felt someone squeeze his hand tightly, before letting go.

Wolfram seemingly awoke with a start. He turned about with difficulty, arousing angry groans from passangers whom he hit with his school bag. The black-haired boy was gone. He had alighted on the second to the last station.

Wolfram didn't even get to know his name...

- END FLASHBACK -

With a snort and an irrate sigh, Wolfram squeezed himself out the automatic doors ad hopped onto his station's platform. Honestly, that was one of the conveniences of standing by the doors.

He took a large gulp of air, making up for his pseudo-suffocation back in the crowded train. He ran a pale hand through his blonde locks in an attempt to fix his somewhat disheveled appearance.

Slowly and pensively, Wolfram weaved his way through people coming toward him. He received a few inquiring stares before he realized his cheeks were damp.

With a mixture of apparent surprise and annoyance, the blonde sat down on an empty waiting bench and hurriedly wiped the tears away with the back of his hand before trying to compose himself.

_What the hell?_

Oh truth be told, he HAD been thinkning about the black-haired teen ever since that day they rode the train together. Wolfram could've even gone so far as to riding every rush hour just to fuel his hopes of seeing him once again...

...but the fuel was just too costly.

He remembered the feel of the arm securely on his stomach. He remembered the tingly warmth that spread throughout his being and coursed through both their frames. No...it wasn't warmth...it was a rush. A delicious rush that made him feel light-headed.

Wolfram growled and buried his head in his hands. He was a hopeless wreck. That guy...was just so damned familiar! Damned touchy-feely! Damned steamy...damned hot.

The blonde frowned and resolutely stood up. He was to stop moping right this instant. What's the idea of making a big deal out of him anyway?

With thoughtful, somewhat melacholy mein, Wolfram went against the traffic once more, hardly noticing people bump into him while they ran like scattered skittles to catch the damned train.

The crowd eventually dispersed and a new one was beginning to congregate. The way out the station had never felt so far...

"Wolfram?"

The blonde's head shot up. Nobody who knew him in school or in his family called him that. Wolfram was his second name. Most people called him Joshua.

Joshua Wolfram Benett.

Past the movement, emerald-blue eyes saw someone standing still, like a mighty rock against a giant river.

It was the boy.

The black-haired boy who haunted his dreams, who had called out his name...and suddenly, Wolfram knew.

A smile blossomed on his face. He shamelessly let his tears fall.

"Yuuri..."

The boys collided in a fierce hug, ignoring the public's all too lucrative stares.

He rememberd things had always been this way in another life. The world was quiet then...and he was ever in Yuuri's arms.

Perhaps if fate was kind, things would stay this way. Present life or the next...rush hour or no rush hour.

**END**

A/N: Yes, I know. That was the corniest name I could think of. Forgive typos though! And...yeah. ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


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